Well done, Queensland! How's that, Umpire?
More we may not say,
"Kruger and the Mauser rifle" ,
Are not well to-day,
For the armoured God of Battles,
Watching either host,
Spied our little band in khaki-,
And they pleased Him most.
Cleared 'em out like sheep before you !
(Was it change of hat,
Or the wire our maidens sent you,
Made you fight like that?)
Hardly ! 'Twas the grand old spirit,
Stern through storm and stress,
That has wrested sunny Queensland
From the Wilderness.
From the tumult of her cities ,
To her furthest runs,
All the heart of Queensland rises
To salute her sons.
All the heart of Queensland bleedeth
To salute her dead
Gently fold the flag around them
In their lonely bed
Eyes that weep and hearts that sicken
In the bitter night,
Holier death can no man suffer
Dying for the Right !
Europe, flaunting crimson signals,
Loudly whispers: " Britain's Empire
Cannot hold its own."
Safe is she on every frontier,
Safe by shore or brine,
Who can call such whelps around her
On the fighting line!
Give our fondest love to Kruger,
Tell him to repent;
Tell him we have thirty thousand
Like the boys we sent!
George Essex Evans
(Brisbane Courier, 5 January 1901)